


Just a Friendly Visit

by esorave



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, Future!Stiles, Magic!Stiles, Magical Tattoos, Minor Violence, Post-Canon, Tattooed Stiles, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-18
Updated: 2015-05-18
Packaged: 2018-03-31 04:03:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3963679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/esorave/pseuds/esorave
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles was expecting to hear all about the new "Big Bad" at the pack meeting. What he didn't expect was for his tattooed future self to pop in for a quick visit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just a Friendly Visit

**Author's Note:**

> This isn't the first piece I've written, but this is the first one I've posted. (Probably because it's so short it's the only one I've finished!) I'm just hoping I did the tagging right. Enjoy!

Stiles wakes up being spooned by Malia. It’s their most comfortable sleeping arrangement, despite its stripping him of any and all masculinity. But he doesn’t mind. He really likes Malia.

Stiles begins to trace nonsensical patterns on the back of her arm, which is draped solidly over his side. He can feel her waking behind him. She nuzzles his back and lets out a few hot breaths, tickling his skin. He shivers. She pulls him closer.

“What time is it?” she mutters. 

As if on cue, Stiles’ alarm goes off. 

“Seven a.m.” he says, whacking it to turn it off. “We have a pack meeting in an hour.”

“Right!” says Malia, suddenly awake and cheery. It’s going to take Stiles longer than that to actually wake up. Ever since the nogistune left him, he hasn’t been able to sleep well.

The shower turns on in the bathroom. Wow, she’s fast. 

Malia peeks her head out, a mischievous look on her face.

“Care to join me?” she asks.

Stiles is suddenly very awake. He hops up and joins her in the bathroom. She always seems to know just what to do to wake him up.

............ ...........

Stiles and Malia walk into Derek’s apartment right at 8:00:58.

“You’re late,” says Derek. He’s leaning against the table by the window. Scott and Kira are on sitting the couch, Lydia has a chair pulled out on the other side of the coffee table, Peter has his normal perch on the stairs.

“We are not,” counters Stiles lamely. Malia links her fingers with his and drags him to the couch. She takes the last seat at the end and he takes the arm.

“So, what’s the new big bad?” asks Stiles.

“Nothing,” says Derek.

Stiles is waiting for the but. 

“But...”

Ahh, there it is.

“Deaton says that something is wrong with the natural order of things. He can’t pin down what it is exactly, but something is coming.”

Just then, the loft door swings open.

“Isn’t something always coming?”

Stiles recognizes that voice, but it’s deeper, changed. He turns to stare at the dark not-stranger in the doorway. He’s wearing a black shirt, black jeans, and a black leather jacket. Tips of tattoos peak out at the collar of his shirt and his hair is just long enough to run your fingers through.

Holy shit.

“Hi Stiles,” says Future Stiles.

Oh, wow. This is so weird.

“I look badass!” says Stiles.

Future Stiles smirks. “That’s because I am badass. Don’t worry, you’ll get here.”

Stiles can’t believe it. He’s just shaking his head. Malia is growling threateningly and all the others have hardened gazes. Clearly, they weren’t finding this as awesome as Stiles.

“Seriously guys?” says Stiles. “I come from the future looking like that,” he waves his arms up and down at the obviously well muscled and extremely hot future him, “and you have no comment?”

Derek steps forward. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Future Stiles takes two steps forward. “Saving your sorry asses from yourselves.”

“You smell weird,” says Scott. He’s pulled Kira close to him and is clearly uncomfortable. “You smell...off.”

“He smells like a witch,” says Peter, surprising them all. “Didn’t we just kill one of those?” 

............ ...........

“Didn’t we just kill one of those?” says Peter, smirking in that annoying way he always does.

Stiles takes off his leather jacket and tosses it on the coffee table, enjoying the gasps he earns from some of the pack. His entire body is covered in various tattoos, mostly thick bold patterns, runes, and rope binding him to the elements.

Wait until I take off my shirt, he thinks. That will have to wait for later, though. Right now, introductions are in order. 

He walks over to the couch.

“Stiles. Malia. Kira. Scott.”

Stiles and Kira nod at least, but he can tell that neither Malia nor Scott trust him. That’s okay. They shouldn’t. 

He smiles, but he knows it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

He turns to Lydia. She stands, arms crossed under her breasts, as he stalks towards her. He can smell her strawberry lip gloss. Hear her heart beating faster in her chest. It’s too tempting to resist. 

When he reaches her, one hand grips the hair at the base of her neck, the other grabs her waist, and he pulls her in for a searing kiss. 

She hesitates before melting under him, and he surges with pride to know he didn’t even have to use magic--not that he would. Not on Lydia. Their tongues dance together fiercely as he deepens the kiss. He hears Past Stiles in the background.

“Dude, what?!”

Reluctantly, Stiles pulls back before he’s satisfied. Lydia’s lips are red and wet. He licks strawberry lipgloss off his own and gives her a wink. She sits, muscles languid.

“So, um.” Past Stiles clears his throat. “You, I mean, me and Lydia, is that like, a thing?” 

The poor boy looks confused.

“No,” he says honestly. “I’ve just always wanted to do that.”

Malia growls and tenses to do something, but one hard look from Stiles and she’s whimpering, hiding behind Past Stiles.

“What the hell dude!” says younger him.

He just shrugs, knowing that won’t satisfying Past Stiles but not caring enough to explain. As soon as he’s finished here, he’s gone anyways.

Derek is sending him daggers with his eyes, which are shining blue. Stiles quirks an eyebrow at him and huffs half a laugh. Derek Hale trying to intimidate him is like an ant trying to intimidate a lion. Amusing. 

At last, Stiles’ gaze settles on Peter. He looks so young now, comparatively. 

A genuine smile lights Stiles’ face. Peter looks utterly confused. Stiles’ smile widens.

He holds his arms open in welcome. 

“Peter!” he cries happily. “Come give your favorite person a hug.”

“Not likely,” snorts Peter. He looks uncomfortable. Good.

Stiles clamps his arms around him, linking his wrists behind Peter’s back, who has gone utterly still, and lining up his tattoos properly.

He puts his mouth right up to Peter’s ear.

“Burn in hell,” he hisses. And with a stroke of his tattoo, Peter disintegrates. 

Stiles shakes the dust off himself. He still hasn’t figured out a way to make this cleaner without disturbing the magic. 

He can feel Derek coming at him, transitioning into his wolf. Stiles turns to him with the same gaze he gave Malia.

“No.” 

It’s a command, and Derek backs off instantly. 

“Well, while this is fun and all, I really must be going.”

Past Stiles doesn’t surprise him by breaking the silence first. “Why?”

He decides he owes them that much.

“Because,” Stiles starts, “someone can try to kill you all only so many times before it actually starts to stick.”

“No,” Past Stiles says angrily, “I mean why now? Why couldn’t you come back early and save Allison? Save Boyd and Erica?”

Stiles sighs, saddened.

“I needed magic to get to the past, but the reason I have magic in the first place is due to the nogistune. When his power left me, a different energy came to fill the void. If I change anything before I have the power to change anything, well, you get the picture.”

Past Stiles nodded. He did. 

Scott, however.... “I refuse to accept that.”

Stiles sighs. He knows how much his best friend is hurting, but he can’t tell him about the future, about how Allison isn’t really dead, or he’ll risk changing too much. He just shakes his head and grabs his Go Home kit from his jacket. 

It’s such a simple clay, he has to smile at it.

The pack is silent as he strips his shirt, revealing a greater extent of his tattoos and a few of his scars. He picks up the clay and applies it to the proper runes in the proper order.

“Until we meet again,” he says. And in a blinding flash of light, he’s gone.

............ ...........

Everyone is staring at him. 

“What!” shouts Stiles, a little too harshly.

**Author's Note:**

> :D I really hope you liked it. Normally I go for the Sterek feels, but this one just kind of wrote itself one day.


End file.
